


Just before sunrise, there is a dark night

by stjarna



Series: Season 6 spec fics [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Definitely fluff at the end, F/M, Feels, Feels and fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, canon-compliant MCD mentioned, mamma!May, season 6 spec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 07:24:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: A S6 spec fic with Fitz&Mamma!May and FitzSimmons. And Feels. A little bit of angst. Lots of feels. Then tooth-rotting fluff. This is a horrible summary, I'm sorry.





	Just before sunrise, there is a dark night

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to @dilkirani and @lilsciencequeen for the beta.
> 
> I've been meaning to write this for a long time.

Fitz lay on his side, watching Jemma sleep. She looked peaceful now, not haunted by the nightmare that had caused her to wake up screaming not even an hour ago, the nightmare that had haunted her most nights since they’d been reunited. He could imagine only too well what her dream was about, what she relived again and again that made her cry out his name and jolt up in bed, her chest heaving, tears in her eyes.

He’d wrapped his arms around her, as he always did, pulling her closer, allowing her to hear his heartbeat, whispering soothing words into her ear. And eventually her trembling subsided, her grip on him loosened, and she fell back asleep, her head resting on his chest.

She’d only rolled off his arm a few minutes ago, and Fitz hadn’t dared to move or breathe or stir since.

It was always like that.

She’d wake up from her nightmare and once she was back asleep, Fitz felt the need to keep watch. She looked so fragile whenever the nightmare overcame her. He’d seen her struggle with haunting memories before, and yet he’d never seen her this broken, this breakable.

She’d always been the strong one, and he didn’t quite know how to become the pillar she’d always been.

He did his best to mend her, knowing somehow that it was him she needed most. And yet, he didn’t know how to fix it when his death had been the thing that had broken her.

His fingers reached for her, but he forced the movement to stop, afraid to wake her. He drew in a deep breath, before carefully trying to scoot backwards and out of bed.

Her body stirred and Fitz froze in agony when he noticed her eyes flutter open.

“Fitz?” she mumbled sleepily.

Fitz leaned over her, gently brushing her hair out of her face and forcing a reassuring smile. “Shhh, go back to sleep. Just need to use the bathroom.”

The corners of her mouth ticked up microscopically. “Come back to me,” she whispered somewhere between being awake and asleep, a hint of sadness lacing her tone.

Fitz pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to fight the tears that suddenly filled his eyes. He kissed her forehead, savoring the feel of her skin, before pushing himself up to standing.

He watched her for a moment, noticing that she seemed to be asleep, before heading for the door, grabbing his shoes in passing.

* * *

Fitz exited the bathroom, looking down the corridor towards their bunk for a long moment. He inhaled slowly, exhaling a stuttering breath, before heading the other way towards the elevators.

The breeze was stronger than he’d anticipated, and he shivered slightly on the Lighthouse’s platform, but there was something freeing about the cold, about the fresh air, about the million stars glistening in the sky, the full moon reflecting in the calm waters of Lake Ontario. The Lighthouse’s beacon circled in its usual slow rhythm, somehow putting Fitz even further in a mesmerized state. He leaned on the railing, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, feeling his muscles relax at the exhale.

“Didn’t think I’d have to fight for the prime spot in the middle of the night.”

Fitz’s head shot around, startled by May’s voice.

“Agent May?” he said in surprise, gesturing aimlessly at the superior officer. “Umm—I—”

“You weren’t doing anything stupid, were you?” May remarked, raising one eyebrow and walking closer.

“What?” Fitz exclaimed, raising his hands in disbelief. “Have you gone mad? Why would I do that?” He pointed at the sky, yelling angrily. “I _just_ cheated death. Why would I—? And—and do you really think I’d do that to Jemma? Huh?”

“Alright,” May said calmly. “Good answer. Can’t sleep then?”

Fitz exhaled sharply, resting his hands back on the railing and gripping it tightly. “Just needed fresh air.” He looked to the side when May stepped up next to him. “And peace and quiet,” he added snarkily.

May scoffed. “Hey, I wasn’t the one who yelled.”

“Sorry.” Fitz shook his head, unable to hide a one-sided amused smile. “But that was a ridiculous question.”

May gave him a little smirk in return. “I’m glad it was.”

Fitz looked back to the horizon though his view glazed over as his mind wandered off. “She wakes up screaming,” he admitted quietly, his eyes filling with tears. “Calls out my name. Relives his death again and again and again. And I don’t know if I’m the problem or the solution.”

“You’re wrong,” May replied, causing Fitz to look at her in bewilderment. “Her nightmare isn’t about losing _him_ again. It’s about losing _you_.”

“How’s that better?” Fitz asked, confused.

“Because you need to realize that even though she married and lost _him,_ that doesn’t make her love _you_ any less,” May replied, looking firmly at Fitz. “It makes her love you more, because she knows now what it’s like to lose you—truly lose you. So believe me, you’re the solution.”

Fitz’s eyes wandered to the simple band on his finger. He turned it with his thumb. “All I wanted was to marry her. For so long. And now—now it somehow feels wrong to wear it. Wrong and right at the same time. Like it doesn’t belong to me even though it does.”

Fitz let out another deep sigh, feeling his eyes well up again. “When she was on Maveth, we lived completely separated lives for six months. And then, when you guys were taken, I was completely alone, for six months, while for her only days passed. And now—now my life stood still for six months in cryo while for her—”

He paused, a sad chuckle escaping his lips. “She found everything, and lost everything, and searched until she found me again and—” He shook his head, turning to face May. “Why? Why are we being torn apart? Again and again and again.”

He wiped across his eyes, sniffling. “She said ‘Come back to me.’ I was just headed to the loo and she—she says ‘Come back to me.’ Pleads, more asleep than awake and so afraid. I’ve never seen her so afraid. And I—I wanted to tell her ‘Of course.’ I wanted to tell her ‘Always.’ But—but the truth is I can’t. I can’t because I made her that promise and I broke it. And maybe we got lucky, because somehow we got another chance, somehow we—”

He paused, shaking his head again. “But there aren’t any more second chances from here on out and I—No matter how much I _want_ to promise her—No matter how much I want to _keep_ that promise—How can I promise her that I’ll come back? How can I promise her that I’ll be safe and she’ll be safe and we’ll be together?”

He bit his lower lip, dropping his head back and trying to shake away the tears, before looking back at May. “I want to take her away—away from all this, away from all the pain. I want to make her nightmares stop. I want to see her smile and I want to laugh with her again and—”

“Then do it,” May interrupted him.

Fitz furrowed his brow in surprise. “What?”

“Do it. Take her away. Leave,” May explained sternly. “Who’s stopping you?”

Fitz wrinkled his forehead even more. “We’re S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he replied quietly. “We’re supposed to save the world.”

“And you did, Fitz,” May countered. “You saved the world again and again and again. You’ve been _the_ shield. You’ve given this organization everything—including your life. And it’s okay to say ‘That’s enough.’ It’s okay to let others take your place. It’s okay to—” She paused. “Wait here.”

Fitz watched in confusion as May turned around to leave. “What?”

May pointed at him, her look stern. “Wait. Here,” she repeated.

* * *

Fitz’s eyes were once again focussed on the horizon when just like before May’s unexpected interruption startled him.

“Here,” May said matter-of-factly, holding a white envelope in front of Fitz.

Fitz stared at it in confusion, the wind blowing the thin piece of paper up and down. He took it from May, holding it in both hands and reading his own name in silence in the light of the moonlight before looking at May. “What’s that?”

“How about you open it instead of asking dumb questions?” May replied, a soft smile playing on her lips and yet a hint of sadness in her eyes.

Fitz cleared his throat, a sense of nervousness overcoming him as he turned the envelope around and carefully ripped it open, pulling out the handwritten letter.

> _Fitz,_
> 
> _From one person who has cheated death to another, first off, congratulations. It may not seem like it to you now, because I know you will struggle with what happened, and believe me that’s normal. It’s normal to struggle with who you were, what happened, what you’ve missed, what you’ve forgotten, what you did and didn’t do. But know that sooner or later you will realize what a great gift you’ve been given, what a chance. I wish I could tell you that once you’ve been given a second chance like that, you’ll never make the same mistakes again, but unfortunately that’s not how it works. One mistake I repeated was to not tell the people around me enough how much they meant to me, how proud of them I was. And because of that, I have to resort to writing now. I regret not being able to tell you these things in person. I regret not being able to see how your journey will continue, yours and Jemma’s. But at the same time I’m happy to know that you will be given that well-deserved second chance. My advice to you is this: Take it. Don’t wait. Turn it into an opportunity to do what your heart is telling you. When I was given a second chance, I felt that it was my obligation to continue saving the world—with a team like never before. I set out to form a team, a shield, not realizing that what I really formed, what I found, was a family. When I put together this team, I chose you and Simmons for your brains, and yet you became our heart. I know you struggle, Fitz. I know you struggle with the past and the present and a life you never lived. But I want you to know that the man you were, the man you are, the man you fear to be, the man you’ll become, they all share the same heart. And there’s not a single ounce of doubt in my mind that I will be proud of each and any version of you. My wish for you is that you find peace, find acceptance, most of all from yourself and the demons that haunt you. I’ve rarely met a man with the kind of devotion and loyalty that you’ve shown over the years. For me, you’ve become a symbol of what S.H.I.E.L.D. stands for. But I’ve also seen how you love: unconditionally. And that’s something I admire even more. Take it from someone who maybe didn’t quite make the right choice with their second chance, who maybe followed their devotion and loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. too long and waited too long to follow their heart: Don’t make that mistake. You’ve proven how much you care for this world. You’ve proven how far you’re willing to go, how much you’re willing to pay. And now it’s time to allow yourself to follow your heart, your dreams, your hopes. Don’t let a sense of obligation hold you back. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t going anywhere. And even though you were the heart of our team, know that S.H.I.E.L.D. will do just fine without you. I wish you a future you’ll love looking back at one day—like me. Because even though I may feel like I didn’t always do everything right, I know there’s a few things I couldn’t have done better, and meeting you, watching you grow and learning from you definitely falls into that category. I’m proud of you, Fitz. I regret not being able to tell you in person, but please know that just because these words are written rather than spoken, doesn’t change the fact that I mean them from the bottom of my heart. Live your life. Enjoy it. Seize every moment._
> 
> _Your friend, Phil_
> 
> _P.S. If you ever need a honeymoon suggestion—turns out Tahiti really is a magical place._

Fitz scoffed as he read the last sentence of the letter, sniffling as a tear jumped off his lashes and landed on the paper, causing some of the ink to bleed. He quickly dabbed it away with the heel of his hand, before wiping across his cheeks.

His eyes wandered back to the signature, before he looked at May. “Did you read it?” he asked quietly.

May nodded. “It was the last thing he wrote,” she said, lifting her chin in the direction of the letter. “I found him in the morning, still sitting in front of it.” A sad half-smile played on her lips. “He was looking out the window. Sun shining on his face. Somehow I needed to know what his last thoughts had been.”

A quiet chuckle escaped her. “Not that I was really surprised. I think he waited as long as he could to write that letter, because somewhere he’d still hoped he’d be able to tell you in person.”

Fitz nodded, his eyes welling up again. “Yeah, I wish that, too.”

“But like he said, whether in writing or spoken aloud: he means every word,” May replied, looking directly at Fitz.

“And you agree?” Fitz asked quietly.

May let out a single laugh. “I think I made that clear earlier.”

Fitz looked down at the letter before raising his gaze to the horizon. “Leave S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he mumbled thoughtfully.

“It’s a valid option,” May replied.

Fitz couldn’t help the soft smile that crept up his lips at the thought.

“But for now—” May interrupted his silent moment, “—how about you go back to your wife and try to catch a few more hours of sleep.” She lifted her chin in the direction of the sky. “Sun’s gonna rise soon.”

Fitz’s face lightened up at her words. He looked back at the horizon. “It is, isn’t it?” he remarked quietly.

He let out a quiet laugh, gripping the letter in his hand a bit more tightly, and turning to face the older agent. “Thank you, Agent May.”

May smirked at him one-sidedly, bobbing her head in silence.

* * *

Fitz snuck back into their bedroom in much the same way he’d left earlier. He closed the door as quietly as possible before approaching the bed. A smile tugged on his lips and yet his eyes became misty when he saw Jemma lying more on his side of the bed than hers, her hand resting where Fitz’s heart would be.

Fitz crouched down, resting his arms on the mattress, and watched her sleep. She looked peaceful, and for a moment Fitz wondered if he should put his plan on hold, wait for another day, another night and simply climb back into bed with her, hold her close and let her sleep.

He noticed the diamond ring on her finger, and once again, his lips pulled into a smile. He leaned closer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and gently caressing her cheek with his thumb, while his fingers came to rest curled around the back of her neck.

“Jemma,” he whispered, “wake up.”

He felt her body twitch briefly but she remained asleep. He combed his fingers through her hair a few more times, tilting his head so that he faced her more directly. “Wake up, Jemma,” he repeated, just a tad louder. “Please.”

Slowly her eyes fluttered open, looking drowsily back at him. “Fitz?” she breathed almost silently.

Fitz’s smile grew a little wider. “Wake up,” he said again, his thumb still gently caressing her face.

She pushed herself halfway up, a shiver caused by sleepiness running through her body. “Is it morning?”

Fitz shook his head. “No. Not yet.”

Jemma sat up straight. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her tone full of alarm, her brow furrowed.

Fitz chuckled, pushing himself up, before sitting down sideways on the mattress, looking at Jemma. He shook his head. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just—” He sighed, presenting his palm to her. “Please come with me.”

Jemma wrinkled her forehead, staring at Fitz’s hand, before her eyes wandered up to his face. “Now?”

“Trust me.”

Jemma shifted, trying to move her legs to the side to swing them over the edge of the bed. Fitz got up to make room for her, unable to keep from smiling.

Jemma looked at him skeptically as she pushed herself up to standing. “You’re acting rather strange, if I may say.”

Fitz grinned. “Don’t worry. Oh—” He pointed at her. “Grab a jacket or something.”

The wrinkles on Jemma’s forehead grew even deeper. “A jacket?”

Fitz nodded. “Yes.”

Jemma sighed and walked to her closet, pulling out a dark hoodie and putting it on.

“You still have that?” Fitz asked, smiling one-sidedly, surprised to see the familiar piece of clothing.

Jemma wrapped herself more tightly into the jacket, shrugging slightly. “Yes,” she replied, barely above a whisper, and Fitz noticed a misty shimmer to her eyes.

He swallowed, realizing the hoodie he’d given her after her return from Maveth and which she’d worn for days or even weeks on end had probably made a reappearance in the months Fitz had been missing in space.

He took a few quick steps forward to bridge the gap between them, cupping Jemma’s face and pressing a soft, long kiss to her lips. Her hands came to rest on his hips and when Fitz broke the kiss, her eyes looked back at him with a strange mix of serenity and longing.

“So you’re not going to give me any clue as to where we’re headed in the middle of the night?” she asked, almost teasingly.

Fitz reached down, grabbing one of Jemma’s hands and intertwining their fingers, smiling at her widely. “You’ll see soon enough.”

He turned around to tug her along to the door.

Jemma sighed. “You do realize that I’m simply too sleepy to protest at this point.”

* * *

Fitz took the last few steps to the metal door to the platform, looking back at Jemma over his shoulder. “Know now where we’re headed?”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Yes. What I still don’t know is _why_?”

Fitz smiled, before pushing the door open, stepping outside and holding the door for Jemma.

Jemma slowly walked onto the platform, her eyes wide and fixed on the horizon, which was still quite dark, though a slim band of pink, orange, and yellow was starting to form where the water met the sky. A soft gasp escaped her lips and she blinked away tears as she stepped up to the railing, her hands reaching for the metal bar in front of her almost as if she were in a trance.

“Oh, Fitz,” she breathed, barely above a whisper.

“We haven’t watched the sunrise together in a while,” Fitz remarked quietly, though his gaze was fixed on Jemma, as if absorbing the sunrise through her were even more magnificent than watching the colors change over the water.

Jemma let out a sound between a chuckle and sob, nodding, her eyes briefly darting to Fitz before returning to the night sky. “That’s true.” She wet her lips, sighing deeply before turning to look at Fitz, shrugging slightly. “But why today?”

Fitz let out a quiet stuttering breath. “I was here earlier,” he admitted. “Couldn’t sleep, and—” He took another deep breath and reached for the waistband of his pajama bottoms, pulling out Coulson’s letter and holding it in front of Jemma. “May was here. She gave me this.”

Jemma furrowed her brow slightly, taking the envelope from Fitz and staring at his name in Coulson’s handwriting.

“And suddenly, a lot of things I’d been thinking about became clearer,” Fitz added, one corner of his mouth ticking up at the thought.

“May I read it?” Jemma asked carefully, and Fitz nodded in reply.

He watched her as her eyes wandered across the letters, as sad smiles mixed with pained expressions. She swallowed hard as she finished, pressing her lips together before folding the piece of paper back up and handing it and the envelope back to Fitz.

“So what became clearer?” She looked at him with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.

Fitz tucked the letter away again, before exhaling sharply, reaching for Jemma’s hand and taking it into his own. “I can’t promise you that we’ll never be ripped apart again,” he said, shaking his head slowly, feeling his eyes fill with tears and noticing hers shimmering sadly as well. “I can’t promise you we will always be safe, but—but I can promise you that I will do anything and everything to minimize the risk to a fraction.”

He wet his lips, grabbing her hand a bit more firmly. “I want to leave. I want to take you away, someplace safe, where we can be happy, where we can breathe, where I can see you smile and hear you laugh again.”

Jemma gasped, her face torn between laughing and crying.

“I want to hunt down that cottage in Perthshire you saw as a child,” Fitz continued, urgently, passion and longing filling his heart, his lungs, his soul. “And offer the owner a fortune so it can be ours, so your dream can come true.”

Jemma chuckled, a tear jumping off her lashes and rolling down her cheek, which she wiped away with her free hand. “I don’t think we have much of a fortune to offer.”

Fitz let out a quiet laugh, shrugging slightly. “Then we’ll find a different one that fits our budget. I don’t care, as long as it’s you and me and our future.”

Jemma sniffled, though a smile played on her lips as she nodded in agreement. “You still remember Perthshire.” It was somewhere between a question and a statement.

Fitz pressed his hand against her cheek. “How could I forget? When it was the first time I heard you talk of a future with me?”

Her expression grew incredibly soft, as a gentle smile played on her lips.

Fitz felt his heart suddenly beat faster in his chest as he looked into her loving, hazel eyes. He swallowed, letting out a stuttering breath.

“And I wanted to tell you all of this right here and right now, because—” He chuckled briefly, gazing at the horizon where colors grew brighter and more vibrant as the sun threatened to break its threshold. “Because I can’t wait anymore. Because—like I said—suddenly everything became clear and I realized that today, this morning, this sunrise—it’s perfect. It’s our new beginning. And it’s a symbol, a memory of the past. A memory for him. And a memory for us.”

Jemma’s eyes curiously followed Fitz’s hand as it let go of hers, reaching into the pocket of his pajama bottoms instead. Slowly, Fitz opened his palm, revealing the two rings he’d pulled out.

Jemma’s lips parted in surprise and confusion as her gaze wandered from the rings to Fitz. “Fitz?”

“It never felt quite right to wear it,” Fitz repeated what he’d told May earlier. “Though it didn’t feel wrong either. And it wasn’t just that I thought it belonged to him, but—but that I thought it should belong to _you_. I would never want you to give up your ring. That’s a part of you. It’s a part of him, and you should cherish that. And I would never want you to feel like you need to forget him, hide those memories, the good ones and the bad. I would never want you to think that I don’t realize that he and I—a few weeks aside, a few _important_ weeks aside—were and are in essence the same person and so, yes, maybe his ring is also mine. But I want to marry you, Jemma. Me. _This_ me. I don’t want to adopt the wedding of another version of me, and so—so I needed new rings.”

He chuckled weakly. “But at the same time, I wanted the old one, so that it could always be a part of us, like it should be. So, I made two rings from one, so we both carry a part of him and a part of us.”

Jemma squinted, taking a closer look at the rings in Fitz’s hand. “You cut it in half,” she realized, breathlessly, before looking back up at Fitz.

Fitz nodded. “Yes,” he confirmed quietly, ticking his head to one side. “The other half’s titanium—one of the strongest metals on earth to symbolize our strength. Thought about nicking some vibranium, but had a feeling that might get me in trouble.”

Jemma let out a laugh, before her expression grew more serious again, her head slowly moving side to side in disbelief. “Oh, Fitz.”

“So, Jemma Anne Simmons,” Fitz said, feeling his throat grow tight with nervousness, “will you marry me—tonight? Right here? As the sun rises?”

Jemma exhaled a stuttering breath, his name escaping her lips barely audibly.

“I promise you—” Fitz added, noticing how the hand holding the rings slowly started to tremble, “I promise you we can have a big wedding another day. Or a small one, whatever you want. With our families and our friends. And, bloody hell, I’ll even wear a kilt if it’ll make you happy.”

Jemma laughed out loud.

“But please,” Fitz said more quietly, “please marry me now, just you and me and the sunrise and a bright future that lies ahead of us, that we shape and create the way we want.”

Jemma’s lips pulled into a wide smile as tears clung to her lashes. She nodded before whispering a confident, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Fitz held the rings a bit higher, allowing Jemma to take the larger one with trembling fingers, before he grabbed the other ring while taking Jemma’s hand in his, bringing the simple band close to the tip of her finger.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Fitz began, hearing his voice waver with nervous excitement. “I promise to cherish our past, our present, and our future. I promise to cherish you, your brain, your heart, your soul. I promise that I will never willingly leave your side. I promise that I want to shield you from pain and make you laugh instead with my dumb jokes.”

A quiet chuckle escaped Jemma, while a tear rolled down her cheek that she allowed to disappear between her lips.

Fitz took a deep breath before he continued. “I promise to be with you in sickness and in health—hopefully primarily health and—and I can’t wait to live my life with you, to watch the sun rise with you every morning if you want, to start a family. I promise you all that and more.”

He pushed the ring onto Jemma’s finger, noticing how it fit smoothly against the other diamond wedding band. He lifted his gaze, smiling at Jemma, who looked back at him joyfully. She cleared her throat, taking Fitz’s hand in hers, and placed his wedding band at the tip of his finger.

“With this ring—” she began, before her voice broke. She cleared her throat, looking back up with tears in her eyes and yet a smile playing on her lips. “With this ring, I thee wed.” She paused, her chest heaving, before she furrowed her brow. “I didn’t have time to prepare,” she remarked.

Fitz let out a little laugh, shrugging slightly. “Maybe that was part of my plan.”

Jemma chuckled in response, before inhaling slowly and exhaling through rounded lips. “I promise to be by your side, to laugh with you and cry with you, and discuss the most exhilarating and most mundane topics with you. I promise not to dwell on the past, not to let it frighten me, but to look to the future with optimism and strength and the knowledge that the future we lost could not compare to the future that lies ahead of us. I love you, Fitz, more than words can say.”

She slid the ring onto Fitz’s finger and slowly their eyes met, tear-rimmed and loving. Both exhaled a sigh of relief as their hands formed a little nest.

“With the power vested in us by—us,” Fitz said, breathlessly, unable to hide a little chuckle that Jemma echoed.

“We now pronounce each other—” Jemma continued.

“—husband—”

“—and wife,” Jemma concluded.

“May I now—?” Fitz asked quietly.

Jemma laughed, pulling her hands out of Fitz’s grasp and cupping his face instead. “You may now kiss your bride.”

Fitz wrapped his arms around Jemma’s waist, tugging her closer as he leaned in, pressing his lips softly against hers. Their kiss was slow and languid, as both savored every gentle touch.

Even though his eyes were closed, Fitz nonetheless noticed how he reflexively squinted when the first rays of sunshine burst across the horizon and shone onto his cheek. Jemma must have felt it too, as she began to chuckle, breaking their kiss and looking at the golden sliver of sun that had risen above the water.

“Look at that—” she said, smiling widely. “—even the cosmos wants to celebrate with us.”

Fitz pressed a kiss to her temple, pulling her even closer by the waist. “I thought the cosmos doesn’t want anything?” he teased her.

Jemma laughed, looking at Fitz and playing absentmindedly with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Well, we also once thought time was fixed. Some theories are meant to be disproven.”

Fitz placed another peck to Jemma’s lips. “As long as the cosmos has good things in store for us, I’ll accept your theory.”

Jemma nodded in agreement. “It owes us that much.”

They kissed again, slowly and tenderly, before Jemma turned around to face the horizon, pressing her back against Fitz, who wrapped his arms around her to give her extra warmth. He leaned over her shoulder, nuzzling against her. “Thank you,” he whispered, before adding an even more quiet “wife.”

Jemma twisted her head to look at him, reaching with her right hand across her chest to cup Fitz’s cheek and pull him closer for another kiss. “I’ll marry you a hundred times over, husband,” she replied, a smile playing on her lips.

* * *

It had been almost a week since Fitz and Jemma had exchanged vows on the Lighthouse’s platform as the sun rose above the horizon. News of their secret vows, of their plan to have another wedding and of their intentions to leave S.H.I.E.L.D. had spread quicker than they’d expected. Then again, they were surrounded by spies and Daisy had spotted Jemma’s new ring within minutes.

But in truth, it hadn’t been something they had planned to keep a secret anyways.

“Talked to Mum earlier,” Fitz said as they walked hand in hand down the corridor towards their bunk. “She said there’s no bloody way I still fit my old kilt because judging by the pictures I sent her I’ve grown out of my scrawny wee arse—her words, actual words my mother used about her only son.”

Jemma laughed out loud. “Well, I will agree that you have grown up quite nicely over the years.”

“She says I’ll have to come before the wedding to get fitted for a new one,” Fitz continued.

“I’m sure that can be—” Jemma paused when they both noticed the gift-wrapped present lying in front of their door at the same time.

They looked at each other in confusion. Fitz picked up the present, while Jemma opened the door to the bunk. They sat down on the bed, staring at the gift for a long while, before opening it.

Jemma let out a quiet gasp, while Fitz’s lips parted in surprise, when they saw the framed picture of them on their secret wedding day, the golden shimmer of dawn behind their slightly backlit silhouettes.

Jemma picked up the frame, her fingers carefully hovering above the glass, a smile playing on her lips. Fitz pulled out the simple, folded-up sheet of paper that had lain underneath the frame with one hand, while grabbing the USB stick next to it with the other.

> _There are more pictures and a video on here. Thought you might want them._
> 
> _Congratulations_

Fitz and Jemma looked at each other knowingly. It didn’t matter that the note wasn’t signed.

Jemma lifted the framed photograph a bit higher so they could both look at it.

“That would look lovely on a mantel above a fireplace in a little cottage in Scotland, don’t you think?”

One corner of Fitz’s mouth ticked up into a happy smile. “It’ll be perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> @lilsciencequeen wrote [a great fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15344421) that has similar undertones (in case you need more like this ;) )
> 
> And since I couldn't resist bringing up the hoodie sweater, I thought I'd point anyone who hasn't read it yet to [The Sweater](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11836860), which was a "loser fic" at @memorizingthedigitsofpi's ficathon that I picked up.


End file.
